Ashes to Ashes
by notafanboi
Summary: After a devastating wildfire sweeps through South Park, Stan is left in both medical and emotional ruin. While it was the Park County Fire Department that kept him alive, only a nine year old boy wearing an ushanka hat can keep him living. Slash. Style.
1. Chapter 1

Ashes to Ashes

Chapter 1—Times Change

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August 11th, 2013

8:14 p.m. Mountain Standard Time

South Park, Colorado

Marsh Residence

"Kyle!" I yelled, "C'mon dude! T and P are back on!!"

We were both at my place, watching Terrance and Philip, while both our parents were sipping lattes in the kitchen and talking about boring crap. They've always tried to act too sophisticated for a group of people living in what is constantly being described as redneck mountain town by visitors. Normally, I would be very curious about what they were discussing, as my birthday was fast approaching. But everyone above the age of 12 was talking about the same thing—the drought. Everyone under the age of 12 was talking about the same thing also—the new Terrance and Philip we were watching.

All that mattered to me, during those few fleeting moments at least, was the fact that the Canada Channel (The only channel in Canada!) had two suspiciously close Canadians on the air, and our television was tuned to it.

"Hey Terrance, could you check under that rock over there for some bugs?" Phillip requested.

"Sure Phillip, I don't see why not." Terrance responded as he lifted up the innocent-looking stone. In doing so, two square butt checks were revealed. Believe me, neither I nor Kyle suspected such comedic gold.

Looking back, we probably couldn't have suspected what was about to happen to us, either.

While me and my best friend braced ourselves, our childish Zen was interrupted by the unmistakable piercing beep of the Emergency Broadcast System's alert tone (See author's note), quickly followed by a message authored by N.O.A.A. "alerting" us of a "red flag warning" and "advising" us to evacuate. These warnings had been going off the hook lately, but were immediately dismissed by everyone we knew, in the typical redneck fashion, as "liability protection", "government paranoia", and my personal favorite (courtesy of Kenny's dad) "Bullshit! Complete fucking head-up-the-ass bullshit! If those ass-rammers think they can pry me out of my place, I'll KEIHEL 'EM!"

"Goddamnit…", me and Kyle chanted, then proceeding to cock our heads at each other, doing both in perfect unison. We continued our mutual gaze until Kyle broke into laughter, as I quickly followed. It was only until later, although not much later, would I appreciate how close we were at this point in our relationship, let alone recognize it. In fact, this exact moment was quite the turning point.

A few more minutes into our show, our front door, not far from our couch, began a quick barrage of violent vibrations. My mother quickly responded by hastily walking to our front door. I'll never forget the way she looked then. He face was flushed and at a near pale, and her lower legs and arms were shaking as she quickly opened the door, revealing an unfamiliar middle-aged man with a brownish-blonde moustache, a slightly wrinkled face that resembled a sunburn in color, and an unzipped firefighter's coat with a navy blue t-shirt underneath that red PCFD in bold, white text.

I would never learn the contents of the brief conversation they held at our doorstop, but I can recall how quickly everything seemed to be happening after my mother closed the door. She paused with her head leaning on the door for a few seconds before she turned to Kyle and me.

"Kyle, I'm afraid you're going to have to go home now", she said in what was an obvious attempt at holding back panic. After calling for my father, she walked back into our kitchen, while we both watched perplexed.

Moments later, Kyle's parents both entered the room and grabbed Kyle by the wrist without saying a word.

"What the hell? Let go of me!" he retaliated, only to be slapped in the face by his mother.

"Damn it Kyle, where are leaving NOW!" He was silenced.

As Kyle was lead out the door, he looked at me one more time as if to say "Well, see you tomorrow."

The second the door closed my mother turned to me, bending down to eye level and grasping my shoulder in such a cold, sustained stiffness that I was reminded of death.

"Stanley, go get your Social Security card and the things grandma gave you last summer. You know where they are, right?"

Now thoroughly shocked, but still not having a fathom of what was happening to my world so quickly, I nodded my head once and ran into my room, where my question would be answered.

It is difficult to describe the surge of emotion that overwhelmed me when I saw it out my window. I think the best way is to compare it to a dream. Scratch that, nightmare. It is seeing something so horrific, so indescribably intimidating that every molecule of your existence is suspended in a state of terror. So terrible is this image, that you are unable to comprehend the validity of its existence before having the most infinitesimally tiny grasp of the peril you are now immersed in.

What I saw was but a flickering orange glow in the distance. By now, I knew what that meant. It was the same orange glow that had enveloped entire houses, neighborhoods, and lives. And yet, I was immersed in it. I think it's because I had the rare opportunity to see fate before it struck me. I finally knew what I meant to stare death in the face.

I quickly rushed down the stairs, my legs powered by strength previously untapped. I bolted out the front door upon seeing my mother's sedan idling in the driveway. Never before had time gone so quickly. Just as I positioned myself in the backseat behind my mother and left of my sister, I was thrown back into the seat cushion as the car accelerated, leaving my home a mere shrinking, fleeting sight in the distance. As I reluctantly looked back, I saw my father standing in the doorway, as hell advanced all around him. It would not be until much later that I would learn his fate, let alone who was responsible.

All I could do was sit, sit and pray. The car was traveling at speeds I before never thought achievable by my mother, but my attention was elsewhere. Smoke was billowing across the street now from the forests that encapsulated either side of the street. We were driving in this direction to get away from the fire, but the further we drove, the more smoke began to overcome the street. It started by rolling across the surface of the road, but in a few miles time, the smoke, a deep black in hue, seemed to have replaced everywhere that air once was. I was thrown into a false sense of security by being inside a vehicle, but such naïve emotions were soon crashed as smoke began to trickle through the ventilation system. I closed my eyes and vowed not to open them, which was made difficult by the tears streaming down my checks. To attempt to describe how I felt then, in words at least, would be futile.

I had been breathing in more and more smoke as the minutes ticked away. My eyes were still closed, but I opened them when the interior of my eyelids began to turn red. There was light up ahead. Upon opening my eyes, I expected to see divine intervention, as circumstances such as these could only be solved by the mighty finger of God himself.

What I saw was very different. It was another car, a sedan, breaking through the thick smoke and fast approaching our front windshield head-on.

I closed my eyes again.

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As you have probably guessed, I am writing this to you after the events I am about to describe haven taken place. How long after? How old am I now? What's my current situation? I don't think I'm going to tell you. At least not now. I'm going to leave my current situation unanswered until the very end. It's more fun that way. For the both of us.

**---------------------------------**

**Author's Notes:** You can listen to what I was trying to describe as the US Emergency Broadcast System's eternally annoying beep by clicking this link and listening to the sound file (you'll have to add the "wikipedia" into your url, because deletes it from the link):

.org/wiki/File:Emergency_broadcast_

If you live in the US and have ever experienced a thunderstorm, then you should recognize this. (Unless you're deaf. In which case I'm sorry.)

I got an email from a concerned fan asking how I can use slash if my characters are going to be nine years old. I just want to you guys to know there will be slash, but this story is about the evolution of friendship, so the intimacy level will rise as the story, and the characters, progress through time.

Watch this to get a general idea of the actual power of a wildfire, and use it as imagery when reading this story: (you'll have to add the "youtube" into your url, because deletes it from the link)

.com/watch?v=IDaNq9GONX4&feature=related

_Disclaimer: All rights to the South Park franchise are legally reserved to their respective owners._


	2. Chapter 2

Ashes to Ashes

Chapter 2—Collision

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August 11th, 2013

8:47 p.m. Mountain Standard Time

Outside South Park, Colorado

Everyone always says that when you're in perilous situation, time slows down to a crawl. I always believed them, but I never knew how painful it would make these few fleeting moments as I braced for impact. All I could do is wait.

I saw the model of the car just before it stuck us, although I couldn't make out any driver. It was a 2010 Toyota Prius, the same model of car that had brought salvation to my friendship with Kyle when he and his parents departed for San Francisco due to a state of moral alarmism. Consequently, the vehicle had always brought a sense of security to me. I need not tell you that such feelings became forever obsolete.

On August 11th, 2013, at 8:47 pm Mountain Standard Time on Colorado State Highway 9—Mile Marker 64, my life was changed forever. My eyes were still closed as I was thrown forward, and as my existence as a carefree, starry-eyed boy was shattered and crushed like the steel and glass tomb that surrounded me. Even though I believed that my shut eyes would shield me from watching the horror that unfolded, I could do nothing but listen to the sounds of an accident-resistant vehicle being demolished, the crack of shatter-proof windshield being obliterated, and the scream of my emotionally infallible mother being forever traumatized. And to think that a half hour earlier I was laughing in my comfortable living room with my best friend.

Although this was indeed a head-on collision, the opposing vehicle struck the left side of our bumper, and ours it's right. Through a disgustingly predictable display of Newtonian Physics, the back-right section of our vehicle—the area where my sister was seated—was then sent hurdling toward the rear end opposing car.

Through an equally despicable display of the human body's fragility, the impact killed my sister, Shelley Lynn Marsh, instantly. Granted what horror that lay ahead for my mother and me, I now consider her lucky in retrospect.

Our car was sent careening down into a roadside ditch, where it finally came to rest—upside down. I had not begun to make an effort to free myself until several minutes after the crash. I was skewered by an unidentifiable part of the roof through my shoulder, and I remember feeling as if someone was slowly pouring cold water on the top of my head. Any attempt to move my spine, and consequently myself out of this precarious situation, was met with a sharp, agonizing pain. To avoid this pain while moving proved to be as futile as trying to dodge raindrops in a hurricane.

I lay stranded on my back until I was able to inch my self onto my shoulders and facing the outside. The window that once stood there laid in thousands of fragments all around me, and in some cases lodged into my skin and scalp.

The night was still only as young as I was. The sky still held a vague tint of blue that reminded me of day. It only served to tease me, as I feared I would never see daylight again.

Although the panorama in front of me consisted entirely of woods, I could make out the horizon in the distance, a line where the dark earth and silhouettes of sprawling vegetation met the navy blue sky. What I saw in between those two areas stunned me to my very core—a thin, dancing orange glow. I guess all this smoke had to be coming from somewhere.

Smoke? It was only at this point did I truly take into stock how much my lungs were burning. It was only at this point did I notice the menacing, black smokescreen that encaged me. My head began to throb and I began coughing relentlessly.

I now know that the smoke I inhaled directly affected my brain function. What followed was a slurry of insanity. As I lay immobile in the car wreck, I distantly remember three vivid hallucinations outside the car window.

I first saw myself playing Guitar Hero. Although I could not see them, the sound of my friends and classmates cheering and celebrating surrounded me. Their sustained words of encouragement and praise could be distinguished from the sea of playful white noise in the background that radiated joy and bliss, created by a continued onslaught of statements of encouragement. Still, all I could see was myself. I could clearly make out the concentrated, hyper-focused demeanor I wore above an obvious aura of childish glee. Kyle soon appeared beside me, sharing the same intense expression as I. Now, however, the sounds of excitement became sounds of endearment and hate. Although they remained invisible, I could hear all my friends—Kenny, Cartman, Wendy, Token, Clyde, Bebe—booing, cursing, and shouting insults. Soon thereafter, the vision I saw of myself burst in flames and was quickly incinerated. Kyle was left alone, still playing the game for a few moments before turning to me. He frowned, shook his head back and forth, turned, and walked away into the fire that was still fast approaching.

I began screaming, the smoke had now affected my cognitive judgment.

I then saw myself with two tonfa, wearing a brown, sleeveless vest with an open chest, a red headband that complimented my standard red and blue hat, and a blue belt slung over my waist. I was bounding from one ineffectual ninja position next, waving around my weapons as if I had any business being in possession of them. Kyle again appeared by my side with a pair of numchucks, throwing them around in a semi-violent fashion while simultaneously trying to avoid being smashed in the face with them. I erupted into a violent, ferocious, and uncontrolled laughter that burned my chest. My eyes were closed during this time, and by the time my hysteria had subsided and after the coughing fit that followed, I opened them. I quickly realized that the apparition of myself had disappeared, and I could only see Kyle holding a match, illuminating a painful scowl. He himself then disappeared, as actual fire began approaching the point in which he stood, a mere few meters in front of me.

I closed my eyes once more, hoping, that a lack of vision would somehow relieve me of my situation.

It worked.

When I opened my eyes, choking black smoke was replaced with cool mountain air. When I opened my eyes, I ferocious wildfire was replaced with a roaring campfire. When I opened my eyes, a soulless and deranged figment of my poisoned brain became my loyal best friend.

When I opened my eyes, I was at Stark's Pond with Kyle.

I now know that I had inhaled so much carbon monoxide that my brain was unable to reason how illogical this situation was. Instead, every fiber of my being was suddenly convinced that I was peacefully camping. I turned to Kyle.

"Ky, can you promise that we'll never leave each other without a proper goodbye?" I asked. I didn't have any idea what provoked me to ask such an intimate question.

"Dude, gay." He sarcastically responded. We both laughed, "But seriously dude, I can't promise anything."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Is it getting hotter?" He replied.

"Dude, seriously. Why can't you promise something so simple?"

"It's getting really hot out here!"

"Just answer my question, goddamnit!"

He began laughing in such a deranged, inhuman manner that I was paralyzed with fear. His eyes widened and his mouth turned to a twisted smile. Smoke began to pour out of his mouth like a waterfall. He kept laughing, even as his skin began to burn and char, going from a deep red to a complete black in color. The campfire that was in between us began to enlarge, and soon surrounded my entire body.

My delusion was over. I was back in the car wreck. The wildfire had now advanced to my position.

Only the tears streaming down my face could cool off my grossly overheated body, as I took my last breath of smoke-filled air.

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**Author's Notes:** I know this chapter was a little dark, but most of this story is going to be saturated in suffering. Why? Because it only makes recovery that much more enjoyable.

By the way, I will be re-writing the prologue, as I don't really like how it was done. Also, I might commission (hire) some artists from DeviantART to draw detailed illustrations from this story

(upon it's completion of course). Lalala.

MOAR VIDEOS! Here's a few videos from Youtube that you should watch to visualize a wildfire. Again. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating in this story. You'll have to add the phrase "youtube" and before you put it in your URL, because removes it automatically:

.com/watch?v=zvPa_yEEd4E

.com/watch?v=rppjXK-sdAk

_Disclaimer: All rights to the South Park franchise are legally reserved to their respective owners._


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